“The sky is…odd,” she said, voicing the same thought I’d had. “It’s like a forever sunrise.” Eternal dawn. Forever sunrise. Despite the somewhat romantic wording, a strange chill wound through me. I didn’t like the idea of the sky remaining in any state permanently. It meant the natural order of things had been severely interrupted at the very least. By what was the question.

“I also considered an attack of some sort.”

“Like a bomb?” she asked, eyes widening as her lips formed an O. I looked at her, taking her in more closely. The full face of makeup she’d been wearing had started rubbing off and one of her false lash strips was sort of hanging crookedly. “What?” she asked, obviously noting my gaze not moving from that spidery-looking thing clinging to her eyelid.

“Your lash…” I said, tipping my chin toward it. “It’s coming off.”

She went sort of cross-eyed as she tried to look at it, color rising in her cheeks. She reached up and used two fingers to try to straighten it. Instead, it stuck to her fingers when she pulled them away. Her lips thinned, and she looked briefly angry, and a little embarrassed. She huffed out a small breath and then removed it entirely and then peeled the other one off as well, tossed them both on the ground and then brushed her hands together as though she’d just won a mini battle and was proud of the achievement. My lip quirked against my will. What was it about this damn woman that had my emotions swinging so dramatically moment by moment? And why, despite my best efforts, was I still thinking about the feel of her satiny skin beneath my fingertips?

I cleared my throat, moving my mind back to her question about a bomb. “We won’t have any way of knowing what happened until we make it somewhere.”

She nodded slowly. “Where do you think it goes?” Emily asked, pointing out to the road.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I said. I dropped my duffel bag on the ground. “But not tonight.”

“What? We’re going to camp here?” she asked, her voice rising into a whine.

“I’m not walking into anything unprepared in the dark,” I said. “We have a road in front of us now, and all roads lead somewhere. But it’s warm here from the residual fire, and so we might as well take advantage of it.”

She sighed and turned her head, her eyes meeting mine. “All we have left are a couple packs of crackers. And some chocolate.”

“It’ll do. We still have water, which is the most important thing. We’ll start out fresh at first light.”

“More walking,” she said. “How far do you think?”

“I don’t possess an internal map, Emily,” I said. “I’m just going with my gut.”

“Oh, your gut. Great.”